The Reason Why
by Mighty ANT
Summary: After everything that happened, he didn't even want to imagine what would happen in this 'British Intelligence' job.  But Finn knew that he couldn't let himself get attached to anyone ever again, lest something like this happen once more.-Oneshot- Finn/OC


**~The Reason Why~**

_Outskirts of London, 1991 _

A decidedly younger Finn McMissle raced through the streets in the outer reaches of London, a large group of cars just a few feet behind him, shooting adamantly at the Aston Martin. Other cars immediately cleared the road upon seeing the group, gunshots ringing as they continued down the street. Finn smirked despite his current predicament._ You never feel more alive than when you're almost dead, after all. _

* * *

"Wow, Mr. McCullen, you were amazing!" a grey VW Bug congratulated, eyes wide as he followed his idol, "you took down one of the biggest gangs in London!"

The Aston Martin chuckled at his young friend's enthusiasm, "I am well aware, Connor. Although I do believe you should be doing something with that camera on your antenna."

"Oh, right!" the young reporter exclaimed sheepishly, before backing up and beginning to take pictures of the detective. Several other photographers quickly drove away from the unconscious bodies of the once esteemed 'Slade Gang', gathering around Finn and swiftly snapping pictures as well.

"c'mon, detective, give us a pose!"

"Smile, McCullen!"

Finn turned to the side to grin at the cameras, not only giving them a better angle, but hiding the deep gash on his other side as well. He couldn't conceal it from everyone however. A navy blue Corvette noticed his wound, grey eyes narrowing.

A few hours later, Finn was driving back home, going slowly as too not aggravate his wound anymore. Though he jumped when he heard a sudden voice next to him, "you know, if you had only told someone about that, you'd be in much less pain."

The Aston Martin whipped around, gun out, only to sink low on his chassis in pain, eyes clenched shut. "I told you," the unknown voice admonished, and Finn pried his eyes open long enough to see that the speaker was a sleek, navy blue Corvette, her storm grey eyes trained on him, one eyelid raised.

"I'm fine," Finn huffed, trying to get back onto his tires. He flinched again, though tried to drive down the empty street nonetheless. He heard the Corvette behind him sigh exasperatedly, quickly driving up next to him.

"You're a stubborn git, you know that?"

The Aston Martin grumbled something under his breath, struggling to keep going. His office/home was still several blocks away, and he doubted that this stranger would stay with him the entire way there. He was proven wrong however, when she did in fact drive with him the whole time, helping him up when the pain rendered him incapable of driving. The Corvette never patronized him, the grand detective, even when his wound began leaking oil. She would look it over now and then, frown growing every time. When they finally arrived at his office he tried to get in on his own, but she followed him and made him move to the side so that she could see his injury.

"Wha-what are you doing?"

"I need to see the extent of the damage, now be quiet," she muttered, signaling for him to turn so she that could look at his wound. Not liking in the least that this unknown woman was telling him what to do, the Aston Martin turned, pausing however when his eyes caught something on the Corvette's side. An intricate dark green vine tattoo traveled from above her tires, and down her sides. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," she advised sarcastically, Finn blushing lightly before turning.

The Corvette looked over his wound, tutting shamefully, "you really should have told someone about this."

"I didn't need to, I'm perfectly fine," the silvery blue car scoffed, though cried out in pain when she applied pressure to the wound.

"Uh huh, of course you are."

The Corvette opened her trunk and pulled out a first aid kit, and began to quickly patch up the gash. Finn watched her out of the corner of his eye, both remaining silent for several minutes. After some time, the Aston Martin spoke, "how did you learn to do all of this?"

"All of what?" The Corvette inquired, not looking up from cleaning his wound. Finn gestured to what she was doing at the moment. "Oh, I'm training to become a nurse."

"I think you'd be more qualified as doctor."

The Corvette looked up this time, locking eyes with the Aston Martin, seeming surprised at his sincerity. She smiled, something that made Finn's tank clench, "Thanks. I never got your name by the way."

"McCullen," the Aston Martin extended a tire, "Finn McCullen."

"Well, someone likes James Bond movies, don't we 007?" The Corvette lent her own free tire, smirk growing, "Name's Irene Oilwell. But you can call me Ivy."

* * *

"You'll do fine," Finn assured the navy Corvette, nudging her comfortingly. She gulped.

"I don't know…maybe I'll just come back tomorrow," Ivy tried going in reverse, but the Aston Martin stopped her.

"No, you are going to go in there and take that test. You want to become a nurse, don't you?"

"'Course I do," she muttered, looking up at the building with something akin to fear, "I just don't see why I can't come later."

"Just _go,_ Ivy!" Finn chuckled exasperatedly, pushing her forward. The Corvette paused, looking at the doors a few feet ahead of her, and glanced back at the silvery blue car.

"Will you wait for me?"

"Of course."

Ivy nodded, steeling herself, and slowly pushed the wooden doors open with her hood. "Good luck!" Finn called after the Corvette, the doors slamming shut behind her.

Finn waited for an hour, pacing outside the doors, glancing up every so often. Only a few weeks had passed since he met Ivy, and he admitted that he…felt something for her. Unlike most of the girls he met, who's heads were emptier than air, Ivy was something else. She questioned authority, mostly when she shouldn't, and wouldn't take no for an answer. The scar that remained on his side was proof of this. While he was cool and level headed, she was rambunctious and daring, an escape plan ready for whatever bizarre incident she got herself caught in. She hadn't told him much about her tattoos, the vines, though he suspected that they had some sort of importance or symbolism. While some looked at the tattoos with distaste, Finn had actually grown to love them. They were a part of her, and Ivy couldn't be…_Ivy_ without them.

Speaking of the devil, the Corvette in question burst through the doors, looking absolutely elated, driving in circles around the Aston Martin, "I'm assuming everything went well?" Finn inquired, Ivy pausing to hug him, much to detective's surprise.

"I got accepted!" she cried, pulling Finn by the tires as she spun around. In her joy, the Corvette pressed her lips against Finn's, and he froze, Ivy soon realizing what she'd done. The Corvette quickly pulled back, blushing intensely under her paint. "Ah…I'm sorry, I-I just… got a b-bit excited," she stammered, eyes averted. Finn was still frozen, not having moved an inch, while Ivy began to mentally panic, quite uncharacteristic for her. Had she ruined their friendship? Did he never want to see her again? He probably didn't like her that way anyhow—all reasonable thoughts were immediately pushed away when Finn overcame his shock, and pressed his lips to hers.

* * *

_Residential London, 1992_

"I'm home!"

"Well it's about time!" Ivy shouted back in return. Finn smirked, driving deeper into the home he and his girlfriend shared, finding her in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry I took so long," the Aston Martin apologized, nudging Ivy. The Corvette gave into his attempt at comfort, nudging him back, before looking him over.

"_Chrysler,_ McMissile, what did you do to yourself?"

Finn smiled slightly at his girlfriend's nickname for him, turning to glance at himself, "what?"

"It looks like someone beat you with a baseball bat!"

The detective shrugged, "It was a standard case."

Ivy nodded sarcastically,"Uh huh, most of your 'standard cases' leave you dented and bleeding."

"It's just a scratch."

The Corvette ignored her boyfriend's effort of reassuring her, and instead she drove over to a drawer and pulled out her first aid kit, which seemed to be getting more use as time passed. "Why can't you just be careful?"

Finn smirked, "It's not like I don't try."

Ivy hit him with a tire, "I'm being serious," there was a moment of silence as the Corvette buffed out some of his dents and sealed the deeper scratches, before she spoke again, "What was this case about?"

The Aston Martin was silent for a moment, "it wasn't for the faint of heart. Even I had trouble stomaching it... are you sure you want to know?"

Ivy nodded. "Very well," Finn sighed, "It was a murder. Began typically, investigating the scene of the crime as such, but it was…" the detective broke off, the image still imprinted in his mind, "You're very lucky you weren't there, Ivy." The Corvette nudged him comfortingly, and he managed to continue.

"Anyway, as time wore on we began to realize that because of the appearance of the….assassination_, _this wasn't a random killing. This car must've known something, and someone had come to keep him quiet. The weapons used led to a well-known gang, although they haven't done anything in months and had all _but_ dropped off the radar. We decided to search one of their warehouses, and found that theywere stockpiling not only weapons, but drugs and other cars as well. Not many were still living_."_

"Wait, so they were kidnapping innocent cars?" Ivy interrupted, seeming unfazed by everything said, "Why?"

"That's just it," Finn sighed, "they weren't innocent. They knew _something_, and so were taken care of accordingly. We were found, and they began shooting at us. One of the policemen called for reinforcements; meanwhile the rest of us held them at bay. The car in charge of everything was a lemon named Zündapp, and he almost managed to escape, though was captured by yours truly," Ivy smacked him lightly at his arrogance, and he continued, "anyway most of the cars were caught, and only a few are still on the street. But we have Bobbies looking for them, and I'm sure they'll be caught soon enough."

Ivy pouted, "Well that was anticlimactic."

"Only you would want an exciting ending to a murder case, "Finn chuckled.

"Of course," the Corvette smiled cheekily, nuzzling her beau, "Anyway, my day was pretty boring, compared to yours."

"Ah, yes," The Aston Martin mused, "Save any lives today?"

"Sadly, no. There weren't any life threatening cases today."

"Oh, well. There's always tomorrow," Finn mused thoughtfully, looking off into the distance, Ivy punching him jokingly on the fender once more.

"Well, I'm goin' to bed."

"Good night."

"'Night!" Ivy called over her fender, disappearing into the bedroom. Finn chuckled, gazing after his girlfriend. She certainly was a keeper, as his father would so effortlessly put it.

Although there was something he'd purposely left out of his story, not wanting to scare Ivy, however hard and apparently impossible that may seem. Because when capturing Zündapp, the lemon had snarled quite plainly while the police dragged him off,"thiz izn't over, McCullen! I'll come back when you don't expect it, zo you bettar watch your back, and thoze around you! They won't be zere for long!"

The lemon had been hauled off then, letting the threat sink it. It had been vague, though gave the Aston Martin chills. And while he didn't like thinking about it, it gave him a sense of foreboding when he did. Shaking his hood, the detective looked out the window for a moment, onto the dark street below, before following Ivy and driving into their bedroom.

* * *

Finn sighed heavily, thoroughly dented and scratched, more so than he could ever remember being, driving away from the wreckage. He could hear civilians and press alike murmuring about the fight that had just occurred. "Did you see that?" someone whispered, "he jumped off the wall and punched one of the gang members,"

"I saw him shoot two sets of tires at once."

"Do you think he's one of them?"

"That was amazing!"

"Did you see what he did?"

The Aston Martin ignored their gossiping, driving off. He was tired, sore, and just wanted to go home and see Ivy again. He spotted some policemen he knew, nodding a slight greeting, when one of the suddenly drove up to him, a grim look in his eyes. "What is it, Thomas?" Finn inquired, concerned by the apprehension the deputy was emitting.

"Er…I'm sorry, Mr. McCullen….but…" the young police officer was having trouble finding the words, chewing on his bumper for a moment, "Miss Oilwell had apparently come to make sure you were alright…and…I-I'm sorry, sir."

It didn't sink in for Finn. The words weren't fully absorbed, and a part of him refused to believe what the deputy had told him. He drove up to the large group of Bobbies, all of them surrounding something on the cement, pushing through the crowd, ignoring their protests. In the middle of the group laid a limp, twisted form of a vehicle, navy blue paint visible through the burns and intense dents, the mangled frame lying in a pool of oil. And the most noticeable thing of all was the vine tattoo spiraling down the side.

Finn rolled back in shock, not daring to believe that the warped lump of metal was Ivy. He couldn't believe it. The detective drove away from the…from Ivy, the lemon's threat ringing through his mind.

A blank look settling over his features, the Aston Martin simply drove away, not daring to look back at what was left of Ivy. His eyes void of any emotion, the detective passed in front of another group of policemen, these gathered around the gang members and foes he'd recently defeated, or 'beat up' as some spectators had simply put it.

Finn ignored them all, expression remaining blank, traumatized. Although, as he drove away, the Aston Martin was confronted by two official looking cars, one a black Mercedes Benz and the other a red British sports coupe.

"Leland Turbo, British Intelligence," the sports coupe greeted, driving up slightly. The Mercedes Benz remained silent, "We both noticed your brawl a few minutes ago, and we wanted to have a word with you."

Now, the black car spoke, "Be that as it may, the higher-ups want to know if you would like to join."

Leland nodded, "Correct. So, what is your name?"

Finn was silent for a moment, numb. Everything had been taken from him. Or rather, one thing. The most important thing, he reflected. There was nothing left for him now, besides the offer they were presenting him with. But before saying anything, Finn came to a decision. Never again would anyone's life be put in danger. If he had lost the most important person in the world because of a simple heist, he didn't even want to imagine what would happen in this 'British Intelligence' job. No, he couldn't, _wouldn't _let himself get attached to anyone ever again, lest something like this happen once more.

And so the Aston Martin drew himself up, looking the sports coupe directly in the eyes and stated,"McMissile. Finn McMissile."

* * *

**I just thought of this because I noticed Finn was quite adamant in saying that friendships were dangerous in his line of work, and yet ends up becoming friends with both Holley and Mater, even allowing them to date, and most likely ended up being friends with the the residents of Radiator Springs. And I also thought about how Finn was friends with Leland, probably for a while, which leads to his surprised reaction of him being crushed. He also seemed to hate prof. Z quite a bit. **

**I also suspected 'McMissile' wasn't his actual last name, because someone could track him down that way. **

**Anyway, review please! And no flames**

**~I will never own Cars-only my OC's-which belong to ME and my permission is needed to use them!~**


End file.
